


Milk and Honey

by quackers



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Almost Fuck Or Die, Alternate Universe - Fae, Arranged Marriage, Desk Sex, Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic, M/M, Mild Blood, Oblivious Shane Madej, Painfully Oblivious, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-03-05 14:30:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18830569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quackers/pseuds/quackers
Summary: Sure, the fae were real. Everyone knew that.Ryan being fae? As likely as ghosts existing.





	1. Chapter 1

Shane knew the fae were real. He wasn’t one of those conspiracy theorists that said the fae were some kind of government propaganda. For one thing, he had once attended a seminar about charm given by a famous fae during his second year of college and had shaken the man’s hand. No human would have looked that effortlessly ethereal.

On the flip side, he wasn’t one of those people that thought any beautiful person with an ounce of personality was fae royalty. He figured seeing one of the Fair Folk was a bit like seeing an A-list celebrity. Rare, a little exciting, a little disturbing, and probably disappointing.

Of course, when he had moved to LA, running into both celebrities and the fae didn’t become a daily occurrence, but it was common enough that he managed to master his initial double-take and learned to ignore them, just like any native Angeleno.

Either way, he wasn’t some country bumpkin that stared wide-eyed at the ethereal, beautiful fae shopping on Rodeo, just like he knew better than to ask for a picture with cast members from Lost when one happened to be _in front of him_ in the line for Starbucks.

So when Steven Lim, a man he had met all of two hours before, sat down next to him during his lunch break and seriously told him to be careful of Bergara, he assumed he was being pranked.

“Ryan? Short guy, has the computer next to me?”

Steven nodded, looking incredibly calm for someone that was accusing a co-worker of being a different species. “We’re pretty sure he’s at least part human, so you don’t have to watch what you say around him, but still, it’s better to be safe.”

Shane raised one eyebrow, looking around as he took a bite of his sandwich to see if there were any conspirators watching them, ready to laugh at how easily he would fall for such a lie. Convince the new guy that a co-worker was fae, then laugh for the next six months at ensuing awkwardness. It was something of a common prank, though it had started falling out of style in recent years. Shane was a little surprised that people from BuzzFeed would stoop to such a tasteless joke, though. And about _Bergara_?

“Bergara?” he asked, just to be sure. So far he knew very little about the guy, but he didn’t think someone that wore a different baseball cap every day was a person that could be considered one of the Fair Folk. They should have picked someone else. “You’re telling me he’s going to charm me back to the Mound or into a ring to get up to nefarious schemes?”

“It’s true,” Steven said, frowningly slightly when it became obvious that Shane wasn’t taking him seriously.

“I thought you two were friends? You’ve definitely got that best bro rivalry going on.”

Steven sighed. “Look, Ryan is a good guy. He is. I don’t think he would do anything to intentionally hurt you. But you know how the fae are. Tricks are in their blood. And if you’re going to be sitting next to him for the next six months, you’ll need to be careful.”

That sounded a little bit like hearsay, but Shane didn’t call Steven out on it. It was only his third day into his internship and he was hoping to be offered a position at the end of it. It wouldn’t do to upset someone who was already a full-time hire. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he offered neutrally. As long as he didn’t give the prankers any fuel, he would be fine.

Standing with an air of defeat, Steven cautioned, “Just- Don’t eat any food he offers you. If nothing else, stick to that. And _definitely_ don’t eat any food he makes.”

“Why, is he that bad of a cook?”

Steven shook his head. “Fae rules are weird about eating. Don’t risk it.”

“Alright, man. Whatever you say.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

 

\-----------------

 

Shane spent the next two years in increasingly closer and closer proximity to Ryan.

Not once did Ryan do anything that screamed ‘Fair Folk.’

It had been disturbing to realize that some people really did believe Ryan was part fae. Sure, Shane could understand why the rumors may have started. The guy definitely had the wit and the charm for it. And his smile was slightly too wide, with too many white teeth that, if one wanted to be dramatic, could be considered a little inhuman. He also had a weird love of milk and honey, but that was probably something protein-related. And yes, Shane had to admit that there were times he was unable to take his eyes off the man that was quickly becoming his best friend.

That, embarrassingly, probably had more to do with his workplace crush than any kind of glamour that Ryan was casting.

And really, what fae would be afraid of ghosts and demons, let alone think they exist?

So while he could see how the rumors might have started, there was no credence to them. Besides, they were close enough friends that by the time they were on their second season of Unsolved, Ryan would have said something about it by now.

Which was why, when Ryan absently offered a taste of his cocktail at an after-work get-together, Shane barely hesitated. He didn’t really like sharing drinks, but it was a concoction he had never heard of, and honestly? He was getting tired of the subtle, but very real ways their coworkers treated Ryan like a threat. Not even two hours ago, he had watched Kelsie turn green and practically run when Ryan had offered to split his fries with her. And that was uncalled for. Ryan was as human as the rest of them, obviously. Accepting food from him wasn’t going to result in a sold soul or a bartered first-born child.

The tiny juvenile part of him that was excited at the prospect of doing something like this with the object of his infatuation probably helped his decision.

He politely took a sip from the side of the glass Ryan hadn’t drank from, grimacing slightly at the taste. When he put the cup down, he was surprised to see that everyone at the table, including Ryan, were staring at him like he had three heads. “What?” he asked, confused under their stares. “Do I have something on me?”

“You-You actually-” Sara started to say, before she snapped her mouth shut.

“I need another drink,” Jen said abruptly, standing up. “Who else needs a drink?”

“Uh, I do,” Sara said, standing up as well and hurrying after her.

TJ and Devon exchanged a glance, shifting like they were thinking of following them.

Shane couldn’t help his slight scowl, making a point of staring them down as he took a second, bigger sip of Ryan’s drink. He ignored the choked off sound that Ryan made. Devon mumbled something and damn near slunk away. TJ was the only one that had the balls to announce, “Well this is awkward. Shane, you’re an idiot. Be nice to him, Ryan,” before also walking back towards the bar.

When Shane finally turned towards Ryan, the man’s fingers were clamped to the edge of the table so hard that his knuckles were turning white, and his eyes were so wide and shiny that he looked like he was going to cry.

“Uh. Ryan?”

Ryan blinked once, then cleared his throat. “How- uh. How did it taste?”

“Not really my favorite, but thanks for letting me try it.”

“You’re _thanking_ -” Ryan cut himself off. He looked torn between sheer disbelief and stunned happiness. Shane had to wonder if he had been drinking more than he had realized. “I’ve got to ask. You know what- what everyone says about me, right?”

Shane sighed. He hadn’t realized that Ryan knew so well what was going on around him. Maybe he shouldn’t have underestimated how observant Ryan was. “I know. And I think it’s bullshit how people treat you.”

Ryan tilted his head. “You… do?”

“Yeah? C’mon, man, you deserve basic respect, just like anyone else.”

At that, Ryan flushed a dark red, his smile shy. “So, you, uh, don’t like the drink?”

“Not really. Too sweet for me-”

“I’ll make you something,” Ryan interrupted, leaning forward like he was about to bolt home and do it right that minute. “What do you like? Cookies? I can do cookies? Popcorn? Hot dogs? Tomorrow, I could bring something tomorrow.”

Taken aback, Shane laughed, a little uncomfortable and a little endeared. Shit, if he had known that sharing food had meant so much to Ryan, he would have accepted months ago. “I wouldn’t say no to any of that, but are you sure you want to go to that kind of trouble? Maybe rethink this idea when you’re not drunk.”

Ryan ducked his head, looking embarrassed. “You’re right. I got excited.”

Feeling incredibly daring, Shane reached over and patted the top of Ryan’s hand. For some odd reason, he got the impression that if he leaned over and tried to kiss Ryan, the guy would welcome it. Which was new. Probably alcohol related.

Then he happened to glance down and see Ryan’s nails. They looked weirdly long and brown. Like… bark?

Ryan followed his gaze, drawing his hand back and laughing quietly, shy embarrassment coloring the edges of the sound. “Oops. Like I said, I got excited.”

“What… “ Shane scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion. “Yeah, definitely too much to drink. I think I’m seeing things.”

“No, I just-” Ryan stopped in the middle of his sentence, his faint smile falling. “Wait. Wait, do you _believe_ the rumors about me?”

Shane snorted. “No, of course not.”

Ryan’s mouth fell open, his expression stunned and weirdly hurt.

Then something happened. Something Shane couldn’t explain. For one brief, shimmering second, Ryan looked _other_. A cunning, conniving look crossed his face, his mouth spreading in a wickedly delighted, _cruel_ smile. All of his teeth were pointed.

Shane felt a rush of primal, animal fear that he had no explanation for.

Ryan shook his head, covering his face with both hands. “No, no, I won’t,” he muttered, talking to himself.

“D-definitely too much to drink,” Shane stuttered, oddly sweaty and uncomfortable.

“You don’t believe in _anything_ , do you?” Ryan abruptly asked. He sounded like he was on the verge of being angry.

“I believe in the superiority of the Mission Impossible saga-”

Before he could finish his sentence, Ryan had stood up and was crowding into his space, for once able to look down at him. “You think I’m human.”

It was a statement, not a question, but Shane answered it all the same. “Ryan,” he said gently, drunk enough to say things that he probably shouldn’t. “You’re hot, don’t get me wrong. Those biceps haunt my dreams. But I’ve seen fae. Yeah, you’re hot, but you’re not exactly inhumanely beautiful.”

Ryan’s expression twisted into something torn between flattered and insulted. “Not every fae is beautiful.”

“You’re the complete opposite of hideous, so I’m not going to believe you’re a bridge troll, either.”

“You-” Ryan made an inarticulate, frustrated noise. “I’m going home. Do some research on the fae, you idiot.”

Shane merely stared at him, unimpressed. Ryan was the type of guy to support a prank if he thought it was funny, and ‘don’t be interested in me, I’m fae,’ was a pretty good excuse to stop a drunken flirt. It didn’t actually surprise him that Ryan would say something supporting the bit. “If you don’t want me hitting on you, there’s easier ways to tell me than trying to scare me by pretending the rumors are true.”

“ _What_? You think I-” Ryan let out a short, hard sigh. “You’re fucking impossible.”

Suddenly there was the pressure of warm lips on his own and the smooth wetness of a tongue teasing along the seam of his mouth. Before he could even comprehend that he was being kissed, Ryan had turned around and walked away.

Shane stared down into his own, mostly full drink. “Yeah. Too much alcohol. That’s what’s going on.”

 

\-----------------------

 

Shane dismissed most of that night. He even did the mature thing, no matter how much he didn’t want to, and told himself the kiss had been born from a drunken whim and it didn’t mean anything. He wasn’t going to put pressure on someone that had never shown any interest in him before.

Come to think of it, he had never seen Ryan show interest in _anyone_ before. And Ryan wasn’t exactly a private guy. Maybe he wasn’t into casual sex or workplace romance. Which was fair. Shane reminded himself it wasn’t any of his business and went back to going about his life with a crush on his co host.

“I made these last night,” Ryan said, startling Shane out of his script writing haze. Cookies on a paper plate were sat down next to his elbow with some force. He was surprised none of them fell off.

“Okay?” Shane asked, slipping an earphone off one ear. “Did you get drunk and marathon the Great British Bake Off again?”

Ryan’s face lifted in a brief smile before he shook his head, exasperated. “No, I didn’t. Do you want to try one?”

Shane didn’t, not really, but he had also been raised to be polite, and one didn’t turn down dessert foods that were homemade. He started to reach for one, but was stopped by a warm, slightly rough hand around his wrist.

“Did you do any research?” Ryan asked, leaning closer and staring at him intensely.

“Uh, yeah?” Shane raised his eyebrows. “There’s an article someone asked me to help them with, so I’ve been looking at some-”

“About the _fae_ , Shane.”

He had honestly forgotten about that. “No. Why?”

Ryan sighed and picked up the plate of cookies.

“Hey, wait, my cookies,” Shane whined. He didn’t really want one, but he still wanted to try them.

“I’m trying to do this right,” Ryan said, like he was complaining about something. “Christ, big guy, if this was two hundred years ago, you’d already be in a Mound.”

“What?”

“Look shit up. Please.”

Shane rolled his eyes, grabbing the back of Ryan’s shirt before he could walk away. It was a little too intimate of a move, but he was getting fed up. “Are you trying to trick me?”

Ryan turned around just to gesture wildly at him with his free hand. “Yes! That- Yes! Of course! That’s the point!”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you’re fae.”

Ryan glared at him before rubbing a hand over his face, sighing tiredly. “I _can’t_. God damn it, Shane.”

Satisfied, Shane snuck a cookie off the plate before Ryan could react and popped it into his mouth, smiling smugly, cheeks puffed out.

“You need to stop doing that!”

“What?” Shane asked, the word garbled as he sprayed crumbs over his desk. He looked down sadly at the mess he had made as he swallowed too much in one go. “You offered them, I took one.”

“Did… did you like it?”

Shane looked up from where he was trying to sweep the crumbs into his hand. Ryan’s expression was still frustrated, but there was an edge of hope as well that he didn’t know what to do with. “It’s alright.”

Ryan narrowed his eyes. “‘Alright.’”

“Yeah, not really my thing.” He reflected on how Ryan seemed really into this whole cooking craze, and gently added, “But it wasn’t bad. It was good. I’ll eat the rest if you want me to.”

“No,” Ryan said firmly. “I don’t want your pity, I want you to like it.”

Shane watched him walk away, confused. “It’s just a cookie,” he muttered, swiping his tongue behind his teeth. The sweetness from the cookie was nearly cloying, spreading down his throat and making him grab his coffee, just to try and wash the taste away.

_Damn, his ass looks fantastic in those jeans. I’d love to get my hands on that._

Realizing that he had been staring, he jerked his head back towards his computer, surprised to feel a honest-to-God blush warm his cheeks. It wasn’t like he had never noticed how good Ryan looked, but that had been an incredibly clear, incredibly strong thought. Appreciating someone’s appearance was one thing, but that had bordered on lecherous.

He really needed to get ahold of himself.

Not like that.

...Maybe like that.

 

\------------------

 

Somehow, making something for Shane that he liked became Ryan’s newest obsession. Shane rose to the challenge by being incredibly truthful in his opinions. And maybe, just possibly, he was also something of a dick.

But a flustered, determined Ryan was a cute Ryan and Shane dared anyone to disagree.

A week after the cookies was cake. He admitted he didn’t really like cake.

That got him a scowl and somehow ended up with frosting on his nose.

One Saturday saw him over at Ryan’s apartment, watching Ryan do something or other in his kitchen. After far too much time, considering what it was, a hot dog was sat in front of him with a flourish. He bit into it and asked, with no small enjoyment, “Where’s the celery salt?”

Ryan’s face was hilarious. “What the fuck is celery salt?”

Shane mimed dramatically clutching his heart. “What’s celery salt? You heathen! You wound my Chicago soul, Bergara.”

He was a little surprised he didn’t get kicked out.

Next was a muffin that, while pretty good, was so sweet he could only eat half of it.

Ryan walked away with a disappointed scowl and Shane almost called him back, but seriously, that was too much sugar for a _muffin_.

It was a taste that lingered in his mouth, sharp and insistent. He swallowed a few times, idly watching Ryan and the way his tight shirt outlined the muscles in his back. Hated to see him leave, loved to watch him go, etc, etc.

“Just tell him you like something and put him out of his misery,” TJ said from next to him, not bothering to look up from his phone. “You’re so far in his debt by this point, it doesn’t really matter, anyways.”

“I don’t know why he’s gotten so obsessed about this.”

The following silence was pointed and incredibly judgmental. TJ was gifted like that.

When it became clear that Shane wasn’t going to offer anything else, TJ sighed. “If you’re not interested, you should tell him now.”

Shane quirked an eyebrow. “In food? I’m pretty interested in food.”

“In _Ryan_.”

‘You idiot’ was left unsaid, but Shane heard it anyways. He kept still, fighting back the urge to squirm. Was his schoolboy crush on Ryan that obvious?

“Ah… I, uh- I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Smooth. That was convincing.

“A fae doesn’t go to this much trouble when it comes to food and drinks unless they want something from you. And since Ryan isn’t trying to lure you into a Mound as a slave-”

“Ryan isn’t fae,” Shane interrupted. He hadn’t meant to snap but this was getting ridiculous. “I asked him, okay? He didn’t say-”

It was something of a joke that Teej was intimidating. A bit that was fun to run with. The reality was that he was a funny, caring, talented man who loved his wife and couldn’t wait to have his first kid. Anyone who had worked with him knew that. It had been a wise move on Ryan’s part to get TJ on his Unsolved team.

The joke was on Shane, because a clearly angry TJ was _terrifying_.

“He’s half human,” TJ said in a clear, tightly controlled voice. “He _can’t_ admit to being fae.”

Shane had liked school and college well enough. And in the classes he enjoyed? He paid attention, took notes, and got good grades. Those classes that were required to graduate but had no bearing on his ultimate goal of media production had always just been stepping stones. If it wasn’t interesting history facts or the nitty gritty details of how to make a movie, he skated through the course.

Of course any class that dealt with the fae was included in that number. He wasn’t fascinated by them the way that half of humanity seemed to be. And unless he somehow tripped into becoming a big Hollywood producer, it wasn’t like he would ever have to work with a fae. The only Fair Folk that came out of their Mounds were too important to be associating with the likes of him.

But niggling at the corner of his brain was a loose, half-remembered thought. A class he had slept through. A lesson on those people that could claim fae ancestry. He only remembered it because he had rolled his eyes at the woman who had proudly raised her hand to say that there were rumors her great-grandfather had been a European fae, and he had been surprised when the professor had nodded seriously and pointed out to the rest of the class that the woman had clearly not stated she was part fae. She had merely implied.

Because, for whatever weird fae reason, those with human blood literally could not admit to fae ancestry.

It made hiring tricky, because it was polite to let people know if they were working with someone that could accidentally enthrall them, but the person couldn’t actually say it themselves. Some people had friends in the know tell new hires, or a group would take it upon themselves to let everyone know. It was a murky, moral gray area to tell a person’s secrets like that, but it was just awkward if the secretary accidentally glamoured the security guard.

And Steven Lim had found him within three days of working at BuzzFeed to tell him about Ryan.

Something twisted in Shane’s gut, a thrill of shame, embarrassment, and hard, stubborn disbelief. There was no way. There was just no way that basketball loving, beer pong playing, afraid of his own shadow, shoe snob Ryan Bergara was a damn fae. Part fae. Whatever.

“But he’s not-” Shane waved at his own face, raising his eyebrows to try and convey what he was thinking.

TJ sighed. “Glamour.”

Shane took a moment to admire just how much judgement Teej could pack into one word, then he admitted to himself that maybe he should have done that research.

If only to prove everyone wrong.

 

\--------------------------------------

 

Two days later, Shane was sure of only one thing.

Internet searches were pointless.

Which he had already known. It wasn’t that he didn’t think there was good information about the fae on the good ol’ interwebs, but so much of it was contradictory and downright insane that he had no idea which source to trust. And the information about those that were part human was even worse, filled more with anecdotes than anything else.

The only thing that everyone could agree on was the fact that anyone with human blood literally couldn’t admit to being fae. Some speculated that was where the old myths and stereotypes of fae dealing in half truths and lies came from, while others argued that the fae really were that tricky and deceitful. It all smacked of thinly veiled prejudice to him and for the first time in his life, he honestly wished he knew a fae he could talk to.

When Shane had tentatively, against his better judgement, tried to research why fae offered food to humans, it had led him nowhere good. Most of what he had found had been horror stories and old folktales of beautiful men and women being kidnapped into Mounds as slaves and entertainment. The more that was eaten while in a Mound, the tighter and tighter the control became.

Outside of a Mound, it was considered a way of putting a human in debt, much like saying 'thank you’ was. It was a tacit agreement that the human owed the fae, and the fae could call in that debt at any time, in any form.

The thing was, Ryan wasn't exactly asking him to do anything nefarious. And really, Shane was far enough gone on the guy that it wouldn't take fae trickery to get him to agreeing to anything Ryan wanted. After some arguing, of course.

In point of fact, he was sitting in Ryan's car, about to see Ryan's family, all because he had been asked to help them with moving some of Jake's stuff in preparation for college. His agreement had come at the cost of a simple 'please’. The only wiles involved there had been Ryan's long eyelashes and slightly mocking grin.

He knew they were getting close to Ryan’s parents because Ryan was growing subtly more nervous as they went. Shane had the nerve wracking, somewhat giddy realization that this was almost the proverbial ‘meeting of the parents’, but he pushed that thought away. They weren’t actually dating, despite what everyone liked to insinuate. Other than one drunken kiss, there was nothing between them.

Ryan’s odd obsession with trying to feed him notwithstanding.

And he had met Ryan’s parents before.

Which was another point in the ‘Ryan is human’ column. Both of Ryan’s parents were perfectly normal, nice people. To Shane, the most extraordinary thing about them was the very human effort of having raised Ryan into the man he was. He couldn’t see either of them being fae.

Almost like he was a mind-reader, Ryan suddenly said, “My mother isn’t from here.”

“What, like LA?”

“Not… exactly.”

Shane paused in the middle of scrolling mindlessly through his phone. “Ah, I thought she was American?” he asked delicately.

Ryan nodded, his eyes firmly on the road. Everything about him screamed that he was nervous. “Yeah.” Then, completely apropos of nothing, he said, “Did you know there’s a Mound in Fern Canyon?” At Shane’s silence, he prompted, “In the Redwood Forests? North?”

“No, I didn’t,” Shane drawled. “As I don’t have the geography of the entire state of California memorized.”

Ryan shot him an annoyed look, but the corner of his lip twitched in an aborted smile. “What kind of hipster transplant are you?”

“The lazy kind.”

That got him a laugh, but Ryan quickly dropped his smile, his short sigh shaking at the end. “I like the area. I’ve been there a lot.” He pulled into the driveway of a typical suburban home and cut the engine. “A _lot_ ,” he repeated as he turned towards Shane, his voice heavy with emphasis.

Mounds weren’t really a part of the world. It was a mess of science and magic that gave him a headache to try and figure out. They were anchored in physical locations, but they were also _elsewhere_.

Why would Ryan go to a place multiple times that was known to have a Mound?

“Wait, why-”

Ryan had already gotten out of the car.

Shane frowned, but followed after him. They were greeted at the door by dogs he tried not to step on and Ryan’s mother, who looked incredibly human as she greeted him.

There was no way she was-

“Do you want something to drink?”

“Mom!” Ryan snapped.

Ryan’s mother smiled mischievously and raised her hands. Shane could see where Ryan got his sense of humor from. “Force of habit.”

“Dad,” Ryan called, tugging Shane further into the comfortable, lived-in house. “Mom is trying to embarrass me.”

There was a faint sigh from the couch, then Ryan’s father stood up and came over to shake Shane’s hand. “That’s her right as your mother,” the man said with a small smile. Okay, maybe Ryan got his humor from both of his parents. “It’s good to see you again, Shane. Do you want anything before we put you to work? Water? Coke?”

Ryan visibly relaxed. “Thanks, Dad.”

Shane got the distinct feeling he was missing something, but like any polite stranger stuck in the middle of a family conversation, he just shook his head and tried to stay out of it.

Jake was a known element, at least. Ryan was the epitome of the proud older brother, so Jake had been drug to BuzzFeed on more than one occasion. They exchanged nods and casual ‘hey’s as Ryan led Shane through the house. He raised an eyebrow at the horseshoe nailed above each bedroom door but didn’t say anything about it.

The actual work went by quickly, since it was mostly boxes of clothes that needed to be put in the back of the Bergara’s SUV. When Shane realized that Ryan and Jake could have easily moved the desk by themselves, he started to get a little suspicious. He had been more help with keeping the dogs out from under everyone’s feet than anything else and that task felt like they were just making a job for him, as the dogs could have easily been shut outside in the backyard.

There was a moment where it was just him and Ryan in Jake’s much emptier room. He leaned into Ryan and lowered his voice, unable to keep the amused suspicion out of his words. “You didn’t need my help at all.”

Ryan’s eyes went wide before jerking away. “Well no, but more hands make it go faster, right?”

“Ryan,” Shane said slowly, enjoying the obvious way the guy was squirming. “Why did you want me to come here?”

“Maybe I just wanted to hang out with you,” Ryan replied with a scowl that looked more embarrassed than angry.

“Aw, that’s sweet of you, Bergmeister.”

This time Ryan’s glare was real. “Don’t call me that in my parent’s house. It’s just weird. You could be talking about anyone here.”

“Sure thing, buttercup.”

Ryan really was unfairly cute when he was all riled up. Shane didn’t mean to drop his gaze down to Ryan’s lips, but it would have taken a stronger man than him to resist the temptation.

“It’s nearly dinner time,” Ryan’s mother said as she walked in.

Shane was many years away from being an awkward teenager, so he knew that quickly backing away from Ryan would be more damning than staying where he was, but for a panicked moment, he seriously contemplating diving out the window.

Christ, it was Junior year and ‘studying’ in Mandy Kowalski’s bedroom all over again. Only that had ended with him being asked to never return. Hopefully Ryan’s mother was a little more open minded about his presence.

Ryan, luckily, was too busy talking to his mother to notice his internal dilemma. “You didn’t make anything, did you?” he asked with a warning tone.

His mother didn’t roll her eyes, but it was a near thing. “Your father ordered pizza.” Her expression turned sly, her eyes practically sparking with teasing humor. “Wasn’t there something you wanted to give to Shane?”

It was fascinating to watch Ryan’s expression become one of sheer, unadulterated embarrassment. “ _Mom_ ,” he hissed.

She just laughed and walked away. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

Ryan rubbed his hand over his face, muttered something to himself, then straightened with an air of determination. “You want some popcorn before the pizza gets here?”

That felt a little out of order, but Shane would be the last to turn down free popcorn, so he accepted easily. He knew that anyplace that had housed Ryan for more than a year would have to have a good poppin’ set up.

The kitchen was conspicuously empty when they entered, but Shane didn’t think anything of it. He just watched, chatting idly as Ryan retrieved a covered bowl.

“These come from Dakota Black corn,” Ryan said, completely changing the topic of conversation. He withdrew a handful of incredibly dark kernels. “I, uh. Did some research. Grew them myself. They're good for popcorn.”

Shane had to remind himself that staring was rude, but damn if he wasn’t shocked as all hell. It wasn’t that he didn’t think Ryan could grow stuff, but he had _never thought Ryan would grow anything_. With the distinct exception of weed in the dorm room, but that didn’t really count.

“And you accuse me of being hipster,” he said faintly.

Ryan laughed softly. “Yeah, I uh. A month ago. Planted some here.” He nodded out the window. “With my mom’s permission, of course.”

Shane drew his eyebrows together, confused. One didn’t grow up in the agricultural hell that was the American cornbelt without learning something about corn. It took longer than a month for the stuff to grow. At least two to three months, if he was remembering correctly. Ryan had to have been mistaken.

Ryan’s movements were sure as he walked around the kitchen, grabbing salt and butter and a saucepan. Shane was a little surprised that Ryan was going old school with it, but wasn’t going to complain at all. The popping of the kernels reminded him that he hadn’t eaten in a few hours, so he eagerly accepted the bowl of buttery, salty goodness that was handed to him.

He started to throw a piece into his mouth, when he noticed that Ryan was just standing there, watching him. There was something nervous and sickeningly hopeful in the man’s intense gaze. Shane looked down at the bowl. Thought for a moment.

Something flipped in his stomach.

“You grew this. In a month.”

Ryan swallowed hard, but nodded.

“Even though that’s impossible.” The next words tumbled out of his suddenly numb mouth. “Impossible for a human.”

Ryan said nothing. Did nothing. He just continued to stare.

If Shane had had a moment to think, he probably would have had a mental breakdown. His entire world had just shifted.

But did it really matter if Ryan was fae or not?

He made a decision.

“Hey,” he said softly, holding out his hand, the bowl carefully tucked to his chest with his other hand. “Come here.”

Ryan slowly edged forward. His upper arm bumped against Shane’s outstretched hand, so Shane gripped it lightly. “Let's go outside.”

If only because he didn't need Ryan's family watch him make a fool of himself.

Outside was hot in only the way that LA could be, but it currently wasn't humid, so he counted his blessings. There was even a faint breeze to dry the sweat that had sprung up.

“So,” he said conversationally, fixing Ryan in place with a look. “What, hypothetically, could a fae get out of making little ol’ me eat something they made?”

Ryan’s face did something complicated, a second of relief giving way to the lowered eyebrow, wide-eyed look of fear that Shane was starting to recognize instantly. “Hypothetically?” He repeated, his voice going high. “Well, some fae use it to put a human in their debt,” his words were quick and forced; a warning he felt obligated to give. “Providing sustenance is a big deal.”

“And?”

“And that debt can be weird. Victorian body servant weird. Pretending to be furniture weird.”

“Some people are into that,” Shane drawled. “What else?”

Ryan hesitated for so long that it would have been annoying if it had been a regular conversation. He kept opening and closing his mouth, obviously searching for words and discarding every one he found. Eventually, he softly said, “Companionship.”

“Companionship?” Shane hummed in thought, looking over Ryan’s head at the fence and thriving bushes that lined the yard. A line of flowering vines covered one side of the fence. It was all was very green. “Do you mean in a best bros forever kind of way?”

“Shane,” Ryan whispered, his eyes shimmering in the sunlight. “Please don’t mock me. Not with this.”

Without giving himself time to think about what he was doing, Shane lightly picked up a kernel from the bowl and popped it into his mouth, chewing as if everything was normal. He took a breath to say something that would have been incredibly hilarious, then stared down at the bowl.

“Holy shit,” he muttered to himself.

Ryan didn’t say anything, but his vibrating impatience and expectation felt like it was coloring the air around them.

“That’s...Really good,” Shane said, shoving more into his mouth.

“Don’t- Don’t say things you don’t mean just to make me feel better-”

“No, Ryan, dude, this is _good_ ,” Shane interrupted him, talking through a mouthful of popcorn and not caring in the slightest. “This is amazing. I think it’s the best popcorn I’ve ever tasted and that’s saying a lot.”

Ryan smiled then, a wide, happy smile that showed off his teeth and crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah, really, this is- This is- _Damn_ , Ryan!”

Shaking his head, Ryan stepped closer, his smile softening into something fond. “You do know what this means, right? Like, I feel like you’re still a step or two behind everyone else.”

“Rude,” Shane responded, the bite of the salt, the crunch of the kernel, and the melting, thick taste of butter making him feel weirdly energized. He held the bowl out to Ryan, who took a handful and shoved it into his mouth with the same amount of grace that Shane was displaying. There was nothing overtly sensual in the way Ryan licked the salt off his lips, but Shane was hit by a sudden, intense, overpowering urge to follow that quick flash of pink tongue.

There was no thought or reason in what he did. It wasn’t like he was distant from his emotions, nor did it feel like he wasn’t in control of his actions. The urge just _was_.

He dropped the bowl, ignoring the clatter and spray of popcorn across the grass, and grabbed Ryan like he was a lifeline, an anchor, the only reason worth existing. Shane’s lips found Ryan’s and all he wanted, all he knew, was the need to get as close as physically possible.

Ryan made a shocked noise that was muffled by Shane’s mouth, but his hands came up and he clutched at Shane’s back, pulling him closer. They stumbled from the sudden movement, catching up against the sun-warmed fence. Shane wasted no time in pressing Ryan into the unyielding wood, spurred on by the bitten off moans and swears spilling out of Ryan’s mouth, garbled into something unrecognizable by Shane’s lips and tongue.

He learned that Ryan's lips tasted like salt and butter, but his tongue tasted like honey. It was a sticky sweetness that slid down his throat and God how he craved more of it.

The smell of flowering blooms was cloying and distracting and Shane batted at the vines tangling through Ryan’s hair in annoyance, the tickle of tendrils across the backs of his hands nowhere near as perfect as the tension of shoulder muscle under his palms. Ryan wrapped his arms around Shane’s back in a grip that made it difficult to breathe, his height a curse as they tried to stay connected at the lips while still pressing their chests together.

Shane was harder than seemed physically possible; a sweet, painful ache that was matched by the unmistakable feel of Ryan’s equally hard length against his thigh. There was no grinding or moving against each other, just a undeniable need to be _close_.

“Shane,” Ryan managed to whisper, his voice hoarse and chiming like tiny silver bells. When Shane gripped at Ryan’s hair in answer, tearing at blossoms as he did, Ryan made a pained whimper that was discordant and jarring.

He wrenched eyes open that he didn’t remember closing, taking a confused second to realize that the blooms and leaves twisted and crushed between his fingers weren’t from the vines along the fence. They were _in_ Ryan’s hair, as much a part of Ryan as the soft, black strands were. Shane choked on an apology, fear that he had somehow hurt Ryan threading through the all-encompassing need.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Ryan whispered in a rush. There were pinpricks of green swirling in the brown depths of his eyes, mesmerizing like fireflies in a forest. Before Shane could fall into their intoxicating dance, Ryan surged forward. “They grow back, it’s fine,” he muttered in a sloppy kiss against Shane’s mouth.

Any other time and Shane would have needed a moment to question _that_ statement, but there was no room for anything except the mounting, ever-building haze of pure lust.

Ryan’s fingers dug into his back, pressing the seam of his shirt into his shoulder blades in a way that was going to leave a crease in his skin. Shane drew a ragged breath, his hands falling reluctantly from Ryan to fumble at the buttons on his shirt, every movement shaky with urgency.

Neither of them heeded the sound of a screen door opening.

“Ugh. Gross. Mom! Ryan did the thing!”

Ryan jerked his head up, a wild crown of twisted vines tangling in his hair, his eyes a shifting kaleidoscope of greens and browns as he bared sharp teeth at Jake.

Primal fear melted into the overpowering lust, but it did nothing to make Shane back away.

Jake just scoffed and rolled his eyes. He put his outspread hand on the fence next to the door, frowning in concentration.

The flowering vines that had grown up behind Ryan in a riot of smells and colors wilted and drooped, falling away from where they were cushioning Ryan’s back. Ryan blinked once, the snarl slowly falling off his face.

“Well done, Jake,” Ryan’s mother said from the doorway, smiling in a rather pleased way. “Calm down, Ryan. Let’s not give the neighbors anything else to gossip about.”

Ryan rubbed a hand over his face, and after it passed, there were no more leaves or sharp teeth or green in his eyes. He ducked his head sheepishly and patted Shane’s chest. “Right, sorry, mom. Got a little out of hand.”

It was a much more pleasant version of a cold shower that washed through Shane, cooling the lust and making his brain come online again. He took a hasty step away from Ryan, mortified that he had been caught in such a position by Ryan’s family.

“Pizza’s here,” was the innocent, far too amused announcement that was made, before both Ryan’s mother and brother went back into the house.

Ryan saying, “Wow, you are really red,” finally made Shane look up from his intense study of his shoes.

“Well whose fault is that?”

Ryan sent Shane a rueful grin. “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting to get hit that hard by the compulsion. Pizza?”

Compulsion.

Shane swallowed, using the excuse of the turned over bowl in the grass to bend over and keep his eyes away. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

“I- Oh. If...If that’s what you want.”

Reading Ryan’s strained hesitation easily, Shane sighed in exasperation and reached over to ruffle Ryan’s hair. “I just need a minute, Ryan. That’s it.”

Rather than push Shane’s hand away, Ryan actually leaned into it, stubborn determination in his expression when he stepped forward and onto his toes. Shane could read that pretty easily, too, so he pressed a small kiss to Ryan’s mouth.

Fear drummed through him at the thought of how close he was to Ryan’s teeth. Sharp, _sharp_ teeth.

No. No, he wasn’t going to think about what he might or might not have seen.

Or the fact that he might have just sold his freedom to a fae for popcorn.

At least it had been damn good popcorn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A mix of an idea from a Tumblr prompt list for Arranged Marriage AUs and a friend wanting to see a specific kind of monster fucking, given as a gift to to someone who has been working very hard lately. You go, girl!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Always read the tags!

Shane didn't _feel_ like he was under some kind of fae enchantment.

He spent the next few days after the Popcorn Incident carefully prodding at every thought and impulse he had, analyzing if anything was different. Other than a newfound zest for life that included workplace-inappropriate daydreams about Ryan, he didn't think anything had changed. It wasn't like he suddenly felt the need to go do every little task and chore for Ryan. He was quite confident he still had the ability to tell the guy to fuck off if he wanted to.

So when Ryan cornered him on a Friday and asked if he was free for the weekend, he didn't hesitate.

Shane had hoped that 'free for the weekend' had been code for two days of some sweet, sweet lovemaking, but he wasn't all that disappointed when Ryan said they were going home. He liked Ryan's family.

When he mentioned that, Ryan shifted in the driver's seat, his gaze very pointedly on the road. “Yeah, uh. About that.”

“Ryan,” Shane said slowly, only then noticing that they were headed in the wrong direction. “Where are we going?”

“Home.”

“This isn’t the way to your parents’-”

“Not that home.”

It took Shane a second before he thought of redwoods and Mounds. “I hate to burst your bubble, pal, but I don’t really want to drive that far north in one weekend. And I didn’t exactly pack for a trip.”

Ryan nervously tugged the brim of his cap down lower, making it harder for Shane to see his eyes. “Don’t worry about that.”

Shane pursed his lips in thought. “Should I be worried about something else?”

“No,” was the quick reply. “No, I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. It’s just...this is a thing. I need to do. You need to do. If you want.”

“You’re not exactly reassuring me right now, Ry-guy. Or making sense.”

Ryan grimaced. “There’s not much I can say. This whole thing,” he said, letting go of the steering wheel to wave his hand in a circle. “It’s a trick. But I don’t really want to trick you.”

“Which is why you let me think we were going to your home, not your ‘home.’”

Letting out a breath of relief that Shane had gotten it, Ryan shot him a small smile. “Yeah. It’s enough of a trick to count.”

Other than the initial realization that they weren’t going to Ryan’s parents’, Shane hadn’t been paying attention to where they were going, too busy thinking about the implications that were just now occurring to him of what it might mean to be indebted to a fae. How often did Ryan have to ‘trick’ him? Was this a common thing or a one time thing? But when he looked up, he was shocked to see that they were up in the dusty, dry hills far away from any kind of real civilization.

Ryan pulled into a flat spot and parked next to three other cars. It felt like getting hit in the face by a wall of heat when they stepped out of the air-conditioned car. Shane craned his head around, trying to spot people. They were at the top of a hill and it wasn’t like there were many trees or bushes to hide behind. So where were the owners of the cars?

“Are we just leaving your car here?” Shane asked, glancing back over his shoulder at the vehicle as Ryan set off in what seemed like a random direction.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Get a new line, Bergara.”

Ryan let out a small laugh, almost unheard under the crunch of their shoes in the dirt. He sounded nervous.

“You’re not about to off me out here, are you? Is that why the other cars? A little murderer meet and greet?”

“BYOB? Bring Your Own Body?”

Shane laughed in a way that verged on a giggle. “I hope you got the time right. It’d be bad manners to show up late to the murderfest.”

“‘Murderfest 2017,’” Ryan muttered, shaking his head as he came to an abrupt stop in a large circle of spiky green plants. He spun on his heel to face Shane, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he searched Shane’s face. “So. Okay.”

“Okay?”

Ryan held out his hand. “You can change your mind now. I wouldn’t blame you in the slightest.”

Maybe Ryan wouldn’t blame him, but judging by the way the guy’s eyes looked two seconds away from filling with tears, he would be incredibly disappointed. Not that Shane was entirely sure what he would be changing his mind about. It would be great if Ryan could _explain something_ , but Shane got the feeling that this was all some kind of fae bullshit.

“I’m starting to regret that I trust you as much as I do,” Shane informed Ryan as he stepped closer, the corner of his mouth quirked up to let Ryan know he was teasing. His foot brushed against a tapered, spiky leaf, and he glanced down, getting a closer look of the ring of aloe. He thought it was aloe, anyways.

Wait.

Ring?

He stopped, one foot in the circle, every whispered rumor about the cunning Fair Folk and their mischievous, dangerous ways running rampant through his imagination. Shane’s breath caught as he stared at Ryan, thinking of sharp, sharp teeth and a crown of vines. He thought of the way he had nearly had sex with Ryan in a backyard, where anyone tall enough to see over the fence could have seen it, without a thought to anything beyond his hunger to touch more and more of Ryan’s skin.

Shane didn’t want to lose control. Not to Ryan, not to anyone or anything. It scared him in a deep, visceral way that was more traumatizing than any old building, spirit box, teeth, or weird plant powers ever could.

Ryan’s hand started to lower, his expression slowly blanking into a kind of mild acceptance that did nothing to hide how his eyes gleamed.

The fear of losing control warred with the sick guilt of putting that look on Ryan’s face.

Fuck it.

What could go wrong?

 _Famous last words_ , he thought with grim humor.

Shane felt nothing as he walked fully into the circle, catching Ryan’s hand in a firm grasp. There was no indication that he had just stepped into a fairy ring. “Alright, Ryan. Hit me with those fae wiles.”

“Is that what you call my fists?”

“Only you-” Shane started to say, then his breath was whisked from him, the world went black, and he was in a forest. “-would _what the fuck_.”

Ryan grinned sheepishly up at him from under the brim of his hat. “Welcome to Fern Canyon. Thank you for flying Bergara Air.”

“I want a little pack of peanuts,” Shane said in a dazed way, looking up and up to take in the wet, verdant plant life that surrounded them on all sides. The air was heavy and damp, and the walls of the canyon were a deep, creeping green from the lichen. He thought he could hear rushing water somewhere. Movement out of the corner of his eye made him take a step forward, trying to catch a second glimpse of whatever had darted past, but Ryan’s grip on his hand stopped him. Ryan didn’t let go when he tugged.

“Careful, big guy,” Ryan breathed quietly. “Don’t wander and don’t trust anything here. Tourists are off limits, but since you showed up with me, someone might try to lure you away.”

Slowly growing wonder at their location quickly turned into dread. Shane didn’t bother hiding how he stepped closer to Ryan, hunching over slightly. He had never claimed to be brave.

“We can go back.”

The 'please’ was almost out of his mouth before he caught Ryan’s expression. “I’m good.” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat to try again. “Really, I’m good. Let’s uh, let’s do this thing. Whatever this thing is.”

“It won’t take more than five minutes once we’re inside, but it may be night outside when we come back,” Ryan warned, stepping past the ring of mushrooms they were in with casual confidence. What a role reversal. There Ryan was, walking through ancient, terrifying nature like he owned the place, and Shane was following along behind him like a scared, twitchy coward. Or not a coward, but somebody with a healthy sense of danger. Now that he knew not to trust anything, the surrounding plant life and pretty bird song was distinctly ominous.

He was hit for a moment by how fucking stupid this all was on his part. He had followed Ryan like a lovesick fool through a fairy ring and was even now agreeing to stay. In a place that was hundreds of miles away from his home. It would have been so easy to blame his capitulation on fae magic or enthrallment or even plain old lust. All he had to do was think about shades of dancing green in brown eyes and he would remember with painful clarity how _quickly_ he had fallen under Ryan’s spell. He hadn’t even realized it was happening until they had been interrupted.

Unfortunately, Shane knew his own mind too well.

Brave he was not, but he had been following friends into stupid situations since he had been old enough to bike down the street by himself. There were stories in his past that would make his mother’s hair go completely gray if she knew about them.

And as painfully sappy as it was to admit it, if only to himself, Ryan was more than just a friend. There were very few things he wouldn't do for the guy, which was embarrassing.

"So where-"

It was an optical illusion in front of his very eyes. One second they were on a thin wildlife trail that seemed to meander to nowhere, the next they were headed straight towards an archway made of living tree branches. If he leaned one way or the other, it was just a normal forest, but as long as he looked dead ahead, the intricately woven arch was clear as day. Shane hesitated, pulling Ryan to a stop, who looked over his shoulder to make a questioning noise.

“Did the fae steal this from Labyrinth or did Labyrinth steal this from the fae?” Shane asked, his question preoccupied as he kept tilting his head from side to side, making the arch go in and out of focus. He thought he would get a headache if he kept doing it, but it was weirdly fascinating.

"What, the entrance?"

"Yeah," Shane answered, raising an eyebrow at Ryan's confused expression. "You know, when the girl asks how to get through the maze and one of the weird puppets tells her to go straight, but she can't see through the illusion?"

Ryan hesitated, then raised his free hand in a small shrug. "I'm gonna be honest with you, I've never actually seen that movie."

Shane stared at him. "Between this and Pulp Fiction, I'm beginning to question your title of film nerd."

Laughing under his breath, Ryan started walking again, pulling Shane along behind him. "All I know about it is David Bowie's crotch and the weird-ass puppets."

"And the babe! The babe with the power!"

"... What?"

"The Goblin King-"

Ryan did some kind of full-body wince. "Maybe we don't say anything about goblins right now."

Shane closed his mouth so fast his teeth clicked. For one wild second, his desperate need to distract himself from his situation by bantering with Ryan had actually worked. He had forgotten where he was and what they were doing.

In retrospect, that was a bad plan. Bringing up movies about a fae kidnapping a baby while walking towards the entrance to a fae Mound was not his smartest decision. Not that he was a baby, but no one needed to get any ideas.

Goblins probably wouldn't look like David Bowie in tight leather, anyways, which was a shame.

"Hey," he muttered, their steady pace bringing them closer and closer to the archway making his voice go high pitched in nerves. "Here's a question. Seelie or Unseelie?"

"What about 'em?" Ryan responded, his attention clearly on what was in front of him. His grip on Shane's hand was starting to get uncomfortably tight, but Shane didn't mind.

Some of the leaves in the trees looked like eyes.

"Which are you? Can't believe I didn't think to ask. There's gotta be some good puns."

Ryan made a distracted little noise. "Can't really say."

"What, like you don't know, or-" At Ryan's vaguely annoyed glance, Shane remembered. "Right. You _can't_ say. I would guess Unseelie with your love of true crime." He thought about how that sounded and quickly added. "Not that it matters, obviously, or that I think- I'm just nervous and-"

"Keep digging that hole, long legs. Got any other stereotypes to bring up?"

Shane let out a strained, slightly guilty chuckle, so close behind Ryan that he was in danger of tripping them. The weight of stares was closing in on him.

They were right before the arch and Shane expected them to stop, but Ryan kept on walking, muttering something under his breath that made Shane's gut twist to hear, then he was being led under the branches and-

It was a hallway.

He swayed on his feet, blinking rapidly to try and clear his sight. They were standing in the middle of a long, carved stone hallway. Or was it wood paneled? Or were they standing in an earthen tunnel? Shane shook his head, looking back and forth as their surroundings continued to change and not change.

“Hey, hey, stop fighting it.” Ryan placed his hand against Shane’s cheek, directing him to look into brown eyes filled with green. “I should have guessed your big dumb skeptic brain would try to see through all the glamours.”

“I- I don’t-”

Shane kept slowly shaking his head, unable to look away from Ryan. What he had glimpsed in Ryan’s parent’s backyard was now in front of him again.

Moreso.

Swirling green sparks like dancing fireflies in Ryan’s eyes. A hint of pointed, shark-like teeth when he started to say something. Faint patterns in his skin that resembled the bark of a tree. A leaf pressed under the edge of Ryan’s hat, right next to a delicately pointed ear. An aura of caution and danger, as if he was a predator poised for flight but more than willing to fight.

It was still Ryan, but this was a Ryan that could never be mistaken for human.

Shane pulled Ryan's hat off without thinking, ignoring the resulting 'hey!' of protest. That same crown of twining vines grew in his hair, flattened by the hat but already straightening as he watched.

Ryan was fae.

Ryan was _fae_.

Shane took a step back, overcome by such strong emotion that he couldn’t even begin to untangle it. He had known that Ryan was fae, yes, had finally gotten the hint that everyone else had known, but the fact had never really been internalized. It was barely a handful of days since the popcorn and while he had thought about it every spare moment, it hadn’t felt _real_. In all the years of knowing Ryan, that one moment was the only time it had been obvious. It was hard to reconcile years of knowing Ryan was human to the truth he had only recently learned.

But here Ryan was. Recognizable and not. The same features, the same scared, worried expression he had seen time and again, but it was all somehow wrong. Alien. Shane couldn’t say that he looked unnatural, as there was something disturbingly _natural_ about Ryan looking so inhuman, but it wasn’t the Ryan he knew.

“Shane?” Ryan asked slowly, his eyebrows drawing together. It was such a familiar expression that Shane had to turn away, letting Ryan’s hand fall away from his face.

He paced towards the other wall, still unsure if they were in a tunnel or stone hallway. He ran his fingers through his hair over and over again, absently squeezing Ryan’s hat like it was a stress ball.

“Shane, what is it?” Ryan voice was quiet. Careful. It chimed. Tiny sleigh bells that made the air shiver. “If it’s too much, I-” his words wavered audibly. “I can take you back.”

“Why am I here?” Shane asked, staring down at the very plain hat in his hands. It was red and well worn. Something else that was painfully familiar. Human.

He could hear Ryan shift behind him and he was easily able to imagine the embarrassed way Ryan was probably rubbing the back of his neck. The fact that he knew Ryan so well but didn’t know him at all was turning his thoughts into a morass of confusion, fear, and not a little annoyance.

“Okay, so,” Ryan started. He took a deep breath as if he had to brace himself. “Food is a big deal. I’ve said that. And uh, it’s even more of a deal if it’s eaten in a Mound.” Suddenly he was stepping closer, until Shane could feel him right behind his back. He started to talk faster, like he was trying to get everything out at once. “It means a lot. To the magic. In our culture. To me. I, uh, have to admit that it _is_ kind of like a permanent servant type compulsion, but I’m human enough that I can’t, like, make you do what you really don’t want to do. I see it more like dating. And, I guess, technically I’m Wyldfae, if you were nervous about that, and I haven’t pledged allegiance to either of the courts, but if I did it would probably be Seelie, because my mom, well-” Ryan cut himself off and took another breath. “Not important. What I’m trying to say is that I made some food for you and I was wondering if you were hungry?”

Shane could hear the question under the question but there was no way he was up to answering either. “Why are you able to tell me this stuff now?” he asked instead, just to stall.

“We’re in a Mound. The rules are a little different here.”

Curiosity was always one of his weaknesses. “Different how?”

“Well, I could kill your ass right now and get away with it, so don’t piss me off.”

Shane felt for one second like he was going to throw up, then he registered Ryan’s carefully teasing tone and turned around just to roll his eyes. “Yeah, you’re really scary, Bergara.”

Ryan grinned at him, his teeth ridiculously sharp.

And yet, despite the teeth, he was beautiful.

Before, Shane had been too busy noticing the differences to take in the whole picture. But Ryan was beautiful like this. That ethereal wild grace that characterized the fae, and he thought guiltily of the numerous times he had said Ryan couldn’t be fae because he wasn’t hot enough.

Shane choked out a faint, incredulous laugh, covering his mouth with his free hand and caught once again by the way the green sparkled in Ryan’s eyes. “I- I don’t-” He started to stutter, stumbling back against the wall that _felt_ hard and wooden as he slid down it. “Why me? Why, Ryan? I’m not… ”

“I don’t understand,” Ryan said softly, cautiously edging forward, obviously trying not to spook him. “You’re not what?” He kneeled down in front of Shane and gently sat bark-nailed fingers on his knee.

Rubbing his hand over his face in a short, frustrated gesture, Shane sighed shakily. “Christ, this is quite a switcharoo. Usually, you’re the one having a breakdown.”

Ryan gave him a small, nervous smile. “Shut up, Shane. What’s wrong?”

“I’m not supposed to be _here_ ,” Shane managed to say as he waved at the hallway around them, annoyed that trying to speak out loud about his insecurities always felt like pulling teeth. But if Ryan could be open, so could he. “Humans that are brought to Mounds are supposed to be talented and attractive. I just make shit for the internet.”

“What, you think the fae can’t appreciate the internet?” Ryan asked archly. Then his face softened. “Shane-”

“I’m not good enough,” he blurted, then ducked his head, embarrassed at being so honest. Maybe that had been _too_ open.

Ryan shuffled closer. “Shane,” he said again. “You are talented. You are attractive. In a Bigfoot kind of way.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“My father is a dentist,” Ryan added, like it meant something.

“And he’s obviously good at his job, judging by those chompers you’ve got, but why-”

“My mother is happier with a normal, boring human dentist than she ever was in a Mound,” Ryan said, smiling at him in a manner that could only be considered fond.

“I’m going to tell your father you called him boring,” Shane said as he pretended to get out his phone. “‘Yes, hello, Steve? You won’t believe what your son just told me-’ Wait.” He lowered his hand and narrowed his eyes. “Why are you comparing us to your married parents?”

Ryan closed his mouth mid-laugh and looked away rather shiftily. “We should probably get out of the hallway.”

“Ryan.”

“My mother has a set of rooms I did some baking in.”

“ _Ryan_.”

“It’s right around the corner.”

Shane came to his feet and scrambled after Ryan’s retreating form, abruptly scared that he would be left behind in the hallway that was too many different things at once.

He wobbled but managed to keep upright, focusing on Ryan's back instead of looking at anything else. The sudden door Ryan opened didn't waver quite the same way that the walls did and Shane practically threw himself through it.

Inside was a living room. A very ordinary, slightly messy, living room. Off-white walls, a lightly battered couch that was once rather nice, a couple of comfortable-looking chairs. Even an entertainment system.

It was all so normal that Shane felt himself relaxing as soon as he took in everything, absently placing Ryan’s hat on the back of the couch. Ryan looking like a forest spirit dreamed up by Hollywood didn't really fit, but he would take what normalcy he could get.

“I appreciate the vibe,” he said, watching Ryan move towards a side table that was piled with food. “But it doesn’t feel very… fae.”

“You should see what it looks like when my mom is here,” Ryan said absently, like it was some kind of explanation. He began to busy himself with picking up pieces of food and putting it on a plate that looked like something bought at a dollar store. Shane was amused by the thought of a fae bringing Dollar Tree plates into a Mound and the humor of the idea settled him further.

“Is that In and Out?”

Ryan glanced at the corner of the table and laughed a bit sheepishly. “Maybe.”

“Do I want to know how long that’s been here?”

Turning towards him with a plate of various pastries, breads, and cured meats, Ryan waved his fingers in a ripply gesture. “Magic. Nothing rots in here. Jake probably brought it the last time he came by.”

Shane tilted his head, studying what was being held out towards him. “And here I was picturing Postmates. Some poor schmuck that has to drive out to a forest in the middle of nowhere.”

Ryan let out a surprised laugh, his teeth gleaming. “Maybe there’s a treaty with Postmates and no one can touch their delivery people.”

“And what, the Uber Eats guy _is_ the delivery? That’s taking corporate rivalry to a new level.”

“Nah, human meat isn’t that good,” Ryan said with the wide-eyed serious expression he used whenever he was trying to sound creepy. The way the corner of his mouth kept twitching up as he fought not to laugh always ruined his attempts.

“Even with the teeth, you still can’t manage to make that scary.” Shane carefully picked up a piece of a mysterious dark brown cake. “What’s this little guy?”

Ryan lost all of his teasing humor, his expression doing something nervous and absurdly cute. “Ah, it’s honey cake. Kind of a traditional thing. I prefer tres leche, but my mom made me make this instead. Surprised you picked it.”

“Well, there’s no popcorn for me to pick, so-”

Shane was interrupted by Ryan’s face darkening to such a red that the bark-like patterns in his skin stood out like dark lines. “I thought that, uh, maybe wouldn’t be the best idea.”

Oh, this was too good to pass up.

“But we’re in private this time,” Shane suggested as innocently as he could, amused by the way Ryan hunched in on himself. If he focused on Ryan’s reactions and not on how different he looked, he thought he could get through the day.

Ryan stared at him for a moment in embarrassment before finally snapping, “Just eat it if you’re going to.”

Shane laughed under his breath and brought the little piece of cake closer to his mouth, one hand under it to catch the crumbs. The sweet smell of freshly baked cake and honey came to him and he hesitated.

“Shane?”

“What am I agreeing to by eating this?” Shane asked, hoping that Ryan would actually answer him.

“Whatever you want.”

Shane raised one eyebrow.

Ryan’s eyes gleamed, the blinking, darting kaleidoscope of greens swirling together in a fascinating, never-ending dance. His mouth twisted in a sharp smile that was as cruel as it was teasing. “Whatever you want,” he said again, his voice underlaid by the distant sound of tiny bells. “An agreement between the two of us. Just you and me. _Whatever you want_.”

“Ry…” Shane breathed, his hands slowly lowering, the cake forgotten as he took a step forward.

Just as he leaned down, Ryan jerked back, holding the plate out in front of him like it was a shield. He blinked rapidly, a mortified expression breaking Shane out of his mesmerized state. “Shit! Shit, I didn’t mean to do that.”

It would have been incredibly easy to become terrified after that. To realize that, once again, he had been about to do something out of his control. All it had taken was a pair of pretty eyes and a smile and he had fallen under Ryan’s spell without even noticing it.

Shane ignored that option and shoved the fear away. He _liked_ Ryan, damn it. He wasn’t going to be afraid of the guy. Instead, he looked down at the slightly squished cake in his hand and grimaced in annoyance. “Alrighty then. Wanna try that again?”

After taking a deep breath, Ryan muttered, “I said it three times. I wasn’t thinking. Now it really would mean whatever we both want it to mean.” He glanced up then quickly back down at the plate. Shane was about to take the dang thing from him. “Along with a couple other things.”

“I’m beginning to see why you take so long on your scripts. You are shit at explaining things on the fly.”

Ryan glared at him, the exasperation tinged with amusement. “You’ll be mine. I’ll be yours.”

That didn’t sound… Terrible.

Ah hell, he had already done this before, what was the worst that could happen? Other than a bout of uncontrolled sex in the middle of a Mound, which Shane was sure would have some kind of weird consequence, but he figured that wasn’t actually on the table. Probably.

With a long suffering sigh, he popped the piece of malformed cake into his mouth and chewed a couple of times. His eyes slowly narrowed into a glare. “Damn it.”

Ryan bit his lip in a distracting display of nervousness. His bottom lip looked startlingly plump and red against the sharpness of his teeth. “Is it bad?”

“No,” Shane groused as he swallowed and tried not be obvious about looking for more. “This might be the best thing I’ve ever had and I think I might hate you a little for it.” His body was telling him that it was a mediocre cake that tasted strongly of honey. His mind was telling him that he would never taste anything as good ever again. “Fae wiles?”

“Fae wiles,” Ryan said with a relieved grin. “You would probably think that of anything you eat here.” He picked up a second piece that Shane had been about to grab and ate it in two quick bites, acting like it wasn’t mind-blowingly delicious.

Then Ryan turned around, sat the plate back on the side-table, and started walking towards the door. “We should get going before it ends up being Monday and we’re late for work.”

“Wait, that’s it? No magic, no nefarious schemes?”

Ryan paused, rubbing at the back of his neck in a way that screamed he was hiding something. “There was magic, but you- It- You won’t have felt it. You’re the epitome of a skeptic human. You could have a sprite doing the macarena on your nose and you would never know it.”

“Is that a common occurrence?” Shane asked as he followed behind, feeling a little cheated. Other than the cake that would haunt his dreams and the hallway that kept changing shape in the corner of his eye, this impromptu trip into a fae Mound had been distinctly lacking in any exciting fae splendor. He firmly kept his gaze on the back of Ryan’s head, though. The damn hallway was going to make him sick.

“With your nose it could be two or three.”

Shane laughed quietly, the words only barely registering. The vines twisted around Ryan’s head were a deep, vibrant green, stark against the darkness of Ryan’s hair. Without thinking about it, he lengthened his stride and reached out, dragging his fingertip down the center of a leaf that hung over the nape of Ryan’s neck.

Ryan made a soft, surprised noise and slowed to a stop. He said something, but Shane was too busy sliding his fingers through Ryan’s hair, marveling at the tickling feel of soft strands and tiny green tendrils. Gently, so lightly he almost couldn’t tell he was touching it, he rubbed his thumb over another leaf in a petting motion. It felt so real. So alive. It wasn’t an illusion or glamour. There were plants literally growing from Ryan.

Maybe he had been looking at the magic all along.

He couldn’t even bring himself to feel embarrassment for the thought.

With a faint, breathy little sound that could have been a moan in other circumstances, Ryan slowly turned to face him, his eyes wide. “We have to-”

Shane did what he had been wanting to do since he had gotten into Ryan’s car and kissed him.

There was faint worry that they were in the middle of a hallway that was, as far as he was aware, public, but he ignored the fear. He didn’t want to strip down and commit any acts of indecency, he only wanted to kiss Ryan. That wasn’t a glamour, that was just him.

Ryan sighed against his mouth and returned the kiss without hesitation, his teeth gently pinching Shane’s bottom lip in a maddening way.

 _He smells so good_.

Inhaling deeply through his nose, Shane pressed closer, tasting once again the honeyed sweetness of Ryan’s tongue. The remembered flavor had been something that Shane had thought about with a kind of guilty furtiveness, unwilling to admit even to himself that he wanted more of it, that he so desperately wanted something that no human could give him.

“Greenteeth’s bairn, aren’t you?”

Shane had every intention of ignoring the amused voice, but Ryan pulled back, an instant of fear showing before his face smoothed into a blank expression. Or at least as blank as Ryan could manage when he was scared.

“Ah, yes, ma’am,” he said as he stepped away, edging forward to stand in front of the tiny old woman that was suddenly next to them, as if he thought he could hide Shane with his body. The woman looked so frail that Shane thought a sneeze would blow her away, but there were bones woven in her hair and he was a little afraid they were human. The hallway seemed to bend around her, a warping of the air that was more nauseating to look at than the way the walls kept changing. Any lingering lust or annoyance at being interrupted quickly disappeared.

“It’s about time. The young ones take so long now to find their first,” the woman said with a lyrical voice that pulled and tugged, cajoling Shane to come closer. Her eyes were bottomless when she looked up at him and asked sweetly, “What is your name, young man?”

Shane opened his mouth with every intention of answering truthfully, but Ryan took a sudden step backward, pushing his back into Shane’s chest. The ridiculously obvious attempt at interrupting him reminded Shane of exactly where he was. There was no way in hell he was giving his real name to someone he met in a Mound. “You can call me Alex,” he said, grabbing the first name he could think of that wasn’t a complete lie.

The mass of wrinkles that made up the woman's face lifted in an amused smile. “A clever choice. I will remember you, Alex. You are welcome here.”

Ryan made a noise like he had just swallowed his tongue.

Her smile deepened as she turned back to Ryan. It wasn’t a comforting expression. “Tell your mother I wish to speak with her.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Ryan said, reaching behind himself to blindly grab Shane’s hand, pushing them both farther down the hallway. “I’ll be sure to do that. If we may take our leave?”

As soon as she nodded, Ryan spun on his toes and pushed Shane so hard he fell.

He landed on dirt.

Shane stared up at the darkening evening sky through the tree branches above him and managed to wheeze out, “ _The fuck_ , Bergara?”

Strong hands grabbed his arms and pulled him to his feet before he could really appreciate the fact that he was back in Fern Canyon. Ryan took hold of his hand and started hustling them down the path, muttering swears the entire time.

“Ryan, what-”

“Not now,” Ryan snapped.

His fear was obvious, so Shane kept quiet as they walked back towards the ring of mushrooms. It wasn’t until they were suddenly under the night sky in a southern Californian desert and back in Ryan’s car that he felt like he could say anything. “So…”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Shane held up his hands in a backing off gesture, but tilted his head and sent a significant glance at the top of Ryan’s head. Ryan’s ears were no longer pointed, the patterns in his skin were gone, and the vines in his hair were no longer as thick and verdant, but his teeth were still sharp and his eyes still swirled with shades of green. “You’re not lookin’ your usual self, there.”

Ryan brought his hand up to his hair and grimaced, looking around the car for something. After a moment, he sighed. “Did you forget my hat?”

He had completely forgotten than Ryan had been wearing a hat. He nodded and shrugged apologetically.

“Fuck,” Ryan muttered.

“Do you want to go back?”

Ryan looked at him like he was crazy. “God, no. Not after that.”

Shane scratched the bridge of his nose, trying to think of a way to come at the question sideways, but the best he could do was, “You really that scared of octogenarians?”

With a derisive scoff, Ryan finally twisted the key, turning on the car engine. The leaves and vines faded from view. His teeth were blunt and human. “When I say she’s a millennial, I don’t mean she’s always complaining about being tired.”

“Oh.” Shane took a moment to let that sink in. “I take it she’s important?”

Ryan let out a strangled laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, just a bit. I’m not telling you her name. Not that I can out of the Mound, but I don’t want her attention. She’s never spoken to me before. I don’t know why-” Ryan floundered with his words, his grip on the steering wheel tightening.

Shane had to admit he was curious, but on the other hand, he wasn’t that curious. He wasn’t sure he wanted a powerful fae’s attention either. “Did you hear that Tom Cruise broke his ankle during filming for the next Mission Impossible?”

Ryan threw him a grateful look for the topic change. “Yeah?”

“Yup. That’s our Tommy boy.”

The rest of the drive passed in careful conversation. Ryan wasn’t really paying attention, but Shane was fine with rambling, providing something for Ryan to listen to without much need for interaction. He already knew that Ryan would be too preoccupied by his own thoughts to accept an invitation, so he didn’t bother to try. But when they pulled up to his apartment’s parking lot, he sat his hand on top of Ryan’s.

There was a need, a persistent want that had been plaguing the edges of his thoughts since he had eaten that cake. And that interrupted kiss hadn't cut it.

“Hey,” he said softly when Ryan turned to look at him. “Can I- Would it be alright if-”

“Kiss?”

“Yes,” Shane let out on a breath. “Please.”

Ryan was already leaning towards him, his hand turning under Shane’s to tangle their fingers together as their mouths met over the gearshift. It wasn’t a frantic kiss. It was soft and nearly hesitant, soothing an itch that Shane hadn’t known he had been feeling. The slow movement of their lips came to a gradual stop and they leaned their foreheads together. Shane could see their hands and he gazed down at the simple sight of their fingers interlaced.

“Tell me this isn’t all because I was the first person to eat something you offered me.”

“No, fuck off,” Ryan said immediately, his words quiet and gentle despite their meaning. His fingers tightened briefly. “If I wasn’t into this whole thing you’ve got going on, I would have just made you buy my next beer or something.”

Shane felt his shoulders relax. He had hated the idea that Ryan was only going through with all of this because of some stupid fae magic. Grinning to hide his relief, he nudged his nose against Ryan’s. “Yeah, but who doesn’t want a piece of this?”

“I take it back, get out of my car.”

He didn’t manage to make it to his apartment for another fifteen minutes.

 

\------------------------------------

 

Shane wanted the record to be set that he was more or less a good man. He paid his taxes, he used ‘please’ and ‘thank you’, and he hadn’t followed the careers of the other Hollywood hopefuls in his improv class just to laugh at them when they inevitably failed, even though it had been incredibly tempting. He hadn’t ever really been to church, but he also wasn’t a demon, despite the theory gaining traction amongst the fans.

So he wanted to know what he had done to deserve one Ryan Bergara walking into their workspace in a _suit_.

It didn’t even fit all that well. It clearly wasn’t tailored and it just as clearly was a couple of years old, as it barely stretched around Ryan’s biceps.

Shane wanted to take it off with his teeth.

Which was a new reaction. It wasn’t the first time he had seen Ryan in a suit. It probably wasn’t even the first time he had seen Ryan in _this_ suit. But damn if it wasn’t one of the best things he had ever seen.

He kept his eyes on his computer screen and the blinking cursor as Ryan flopped down into his chair. “Where’s the funeral?”

“Wouldn’t you feel like a dick if I was actually going to a funeral after work,” Ryan said as he sat a coffee next to his keyboard and began to sort through his bag.

“A funeral in the afternoon?”

Ryan snorted softly. “I don’t know, it’s not like I’ve been to many.” He nudged the coffee closer as he waited for his computer to wake up. “The suit is for a shoot. I can’t wait to take it off, but they’ll probably need me again in an hour. I’m going to be pissed if my bit is cut.”

In retrospect, Ryan had probably offered his drink out of habit. He was always trying to get people to accept food from him and the past few weeks had been a run of food specifically meant for Shane. It probably hadn’t been a real offer.

But Shane needed something to distract himself from the way Ryan’s wrists peeked out from under the crisp white line of his shirt cuff. The coffee was the kind that had been made in a Keurig, with all the negatives that entailed. It was also more milk and sugar than coffee and Shane made a face after swallowing. He really should have picked up on Ryan being fae the first time he had seen the guy dump enough sugar into his drink to turn it into sludge.

“Oh.”

Shane looked up and met wide eyes. “What?”

Ryan’s gaze moved from the coffee to Shane’s face in a slow pan that would have suited a horror movie. “I wasn’t thinking. Fuck, I wasn’t thinking.”

“And that’s new?”

That didn’t even get a glare. “I should go.”

Without another word, Ryan got up and walked away, barely slowing down to grab his bag. The cut of the suit did good things for the shape of his hips and upper thighs and Shane got up to follow after him.

It wasn’t a conscious decision. He left his phone next to his keyboard and his computer unlocked and his work unsaved, despite having had ‘save early and save often’ drummed into his head since college. None of that mattered.

“Ryan,” he called as they both entered the hallway. His voice was oddly strangled. Ryan flinched and sped up, but he couldn’t compete with the bonestilts Shane liked to call legs.

Shane caught up to him in the stairwell, his second ‘Ryan’ breathy enough that it was almost a moan. The fabric of the suit was smooth under his palm and he suddenly realized that he had grabbed Ryan’s arm.

“We’re at work,” Ryan hissed, darting a glance around and cringing when he spotted a group of people walking up the stairs.

“I know that,” Shane said, his head tilted in confusion. “I do recognize this particularly delightful and bland decorating scheme they’ve subjected us to.” The poorly knotted tie around Ryan’s neck was askew. He reached up to fix it, delighted to find that it was warm from the heat of Ryan’s chest.

Ryan groaned and backed down the steps, away from his fingers. “You don’t even know what’s going on, do you?”

Shane stared at him.

“Fuck. Okay, okay, we can fix this-”

“I want to fuck you.”

Ryan’s words ended in a high-pitched squawk.

Shane slowly closed his mouth. That had _not_ been what he had planned on saying. “Fae BS?” he managed to ask after a second, pushing the whisper past numb lips.

That didn’t get a verbal reply, but he figured the way Ryan jerked his head in an indication to follow him and then took off down the stairs was enough of an answer.

He was so focused on keeping Ryan in sight that the door to their set came as something of a surprise. A part of him wanted to hesitate at the threshold, but the rest of him merely slapped that part down and followed right on Ryan’s heels.

Heat curled up his spine when Ryan locked the door behind them.

“I didn’t even know that door locked,” he said faintly. His palms were sweaty and he started to wipe them on his pants but he suddenly had an armful of Ryan.

It was all a bit of a blur. One moment he was standing awkwardly and trying not to think things about Ryan and suits and desks, the next his mouth was being ravaged. He couldn’t really call it kissing. It was biting, licking, panting into each other’s mouths as they pressed as close together as physically possible. Shane was holding onto Ryan as hard as he could, his arms aching with the strain, but it wasn’t enough. He needed to be closer. He needed _more_.

There was a brief struggle, Ryan pulling away and Shane trying desperately to keep him against his body, but Ryan’s muscles weren’t all for show.

Ryan put one hand on Shane’s chest to stop him from moving and the other caressed his cheek. Shane nuzzled against it, turning his head just enough to gently bite down on the meat of Ryan’s thumb.

“Hey, hey, no. Look at me, big guy.”

Shane obeyed without question, falling into a haze of green. “Hmm?” he managed.

“What do you want?”

“You,” Shane said simply, going back to trying to get one of Ryan’s fingers in his mouth.

Ryan slid his hand up to grip Shane’s hair, holding him in place. “ _Shane_. What do you want?”

A layer of fog lifted from Shane’s thoughts, though a corner of his mind was aware that he still wasn’t all there. “I don’t know. I just want you. I want to be as close as I can.”

Taking a deep breath that shook, Ryan asked, “Do you want to fuck me?”

“Yes,” Shane murmured, losing whatever coherence he’d briefly possessed. “Yes, please.”

Ryan nodded. “Okay. Okay, that’s- Yeah. Yeah, let’s do that.”

Shane tried to follow him when he took a step back, but Ryan halted him with a look. He watched avidly, hungrily, as Ryan shrugged out of his jacket and threw it onto a chair. His movements grew jerkier and more frantic as he quickly loosened his tie and dropped it on top of the jacket, then unbuttoned his shirt cuffs and rolled them up to his elbows.

There was a leaf growing in front of Ryan’s ear. Shane wanted to bite it. He wondered if that would hurt Ryan.

He wondered if Ryan might like it.

Ryan proceeded to unbuckle his belt and witnessing the act of the leather sliding through the belt loops made Shane weak in the knees. There was an itch of pure _want_ thrumming through his veins and only the knowledge that Ryan wanted him to stay put kept him from moving. God, he wanted to kneel in front of Ryan and get his mouth on every revealed inch as Ryan undressed. He wanted to taste skin and feel the warmth of flesh against his lips and the scratch of hair against his cheek. He wanted everything that Ryan would give him.

Watching Ryan turn to rummage through his bag and pull out lube and a condom was a special kind of torture. For a long moment, all he could think was that Ryan had expected something like this. Had _planned for it_.

Then Ryan’s pants were down around his ankles and he was perching his naked ass on the edge of their set table. Shane stumbled forward, drawn towards Ryan like there was a tether pulling on his very soul. Without hesitation he wrapped his hand around the heavy weight of Ryan’s already hard cock, smearing his thumb through the wetness dripping down the head.

Ryan moaned loudly, the sound echoing in the room. Shane knew that he would later appreciate the way Ryan slapped a hand over his own mouth to muffle his sounds, but in the moment he wanted to hear every note and every single chiming bell that jingled under Ryan’s groans and harsh, panting whimpers.

He gripped Ryan’s wrist to pull his hand away, replacing it with his lips. He savored each swallowed noise and the taste of honey that trickled down his throat as he sucked on Ryan’s tongue in a way that was downright filthy. Ryan’s cock was hard and thick and it felt hot against his palm. Each slow squeeze of his hand brought another whimper and if there hadn’t been growing desperation to be inside him, he would have been content to take Ryan apart like that, with nothing more than his hand.

“Condom,” Ryan commanded against his mouth, in a harsh voice that was far deeper than usual. “ _Now_.”

As much as the idea of letting go pained him, Shane couldn’t do anything but obey. That voice had wormed its way into his psyche and taken hold. He couldn’t bring himself to care.

It left a physical ache in Shane’s extremities to stop touching Ryan and he nearly couldn’t unbutton his pants or handle the zipper because his fingers were shaking so much. He hissed as he got a hand on himself, the touch too much and not enough. It was _good_ but it wasn’t what he wanted. The condom nearly proved to be impossible, as getting it out of the packet and rolling it onto his cock took a level of focus that was difficult to attain when all he wanted to do was touch Ryan.

Not that Ryan was helping his concentration. The man had leaned back on the table and was fumbling with the lube, squeezing it until the liquid was dripping down his palm and over his wrist. Ryan looked up at Shane through half-lidded eyes, the brown was so dark it was nearly black and the dancing greens were vibrant. Verdant. Before Shane could fall into them, Ryan curled forward and reached between his legs. He briefly gave his balls a gentle squeeze before angling them out of the way. His movements were quick and perfunctory as he smoothed one, then two slick fingers into himself. It had to have been an awkward angle, but he didn’t even wince as he stared at Shane, his lips parted on a thin whine. It was clear this wasn’t the first time he had done it.

The sight and the realization were too much for Shane to handle. He fell forward, pushing Ryan’s shirt up so that he could get his hands on the warm expanse of skin that was revealed, the clear lines of the ribs and the ripple of stomach muscles as Ryan made himself wet and ready. Shane did his best to keep out of the way, but every fiber of his being demanded to be closer. The bare handful of seconds it was taking Ryan was a test of the patience that he no longer had. He claimed Ryan’s mouth again, ignoring the knee pushing into his hip and the hand in the way to brush his own fingertips over the length of Ryan’s cock and the softness of his balls. Before he could go any further, Ryan was pushing him away and pressing a bottle into his chest.

Shane caught it before it fell, his mind blank but for need.

“Use it,” Ryan snapped, his teeth sharp enough to cut. Shane should have been thankful that he hadn’t hurt himself yet in a kiss with those teeth, but it seemed unimportant. “A lot of it.”

There was a pull under the words, a willingness to obey that superseded the need to touch. Shane did as he was told, clear lube dripping down his fingers and onto the floor as he spread it over himself.

Then Ryan turned around and bent over the table. Shane lost all sense of self.

All that was left to him was need and sensation.

Heat and squeezing pressure that was too tight, too much, too hot, _not enough_. It was a slow squeeze, a gradual push into tense muscle and it was far, far too good. He could have died in that moment and never known.

A muffled whine made him look down to see that Ryan was biting down on the back of his arm. Shane stopped, despite the way his toes were curled in his shoes and the way his muscles trembled in the need to push forward that last couple of inches.

Somehow, through an effort of will that he had never thought he possessed, concern for Ryan gave him the ability to produce actual words. “Relax,” he said softly, almost pleading it as he clutched Ryan’s hips so hard that the bone was digging into his fingers.

Ryan shifted under him and the short slide of his cock further inside that tight heat was like being hit by a tidal wave of arousal. “Relax, please,” Shane begged, the words turning into a chant. “Relax, relax, relax, please-”

“Shane,” Ryan interrupted, his voice strained, the underlying chimes jarring and discordant. He twisted his head enough that Shane could just catch the glimpse of puncture marks in his arms and blood on his teeth. “ _Fuck me_.”

Shane’s hips snapped forward before he had consciously registered the order. It was perfect. It was more than he could handle. It was a physical sensation of so much pleasure that his every nerve ending felt alight with it. Every point of contact between the two of them felt sensitive and raw and overheated. Small jerking thrusts was all he was able to do for a long time, the idea of any distance between them sacrilege. Each time he fucked into Ryan, he wrung a muffled groan out of the man that spurred him on.

His entire world became the heat grasping his cock, the softness of Ryan’s skin against his thighs, the delicious noises Ryan was making, and the heady scent of freshly blooming flowers. It was unreal, the way arousal wound through his body, spiraling through his erratically beating heart and down his spine,adding to the tight feeling in the pit of his stomach, the heaviness of his balls, the heat wrapped around his cock as Ryan _took it_ , over and over again.

Every moment grew towards a harried, desperate frenzy, Shane’s thrusts becoming more erratic and ragged. When the pleasure had nearly reached a peak, a precipice that hurt, he ground forward, dragging his hands up Ryan’s hips to push his shirt out of the way, pressing his fingers hard into the hollow under Ryan’s ribs, sliding through the gathered sweat. He plastered himself along the length of Ryan’s spine, the table creaking alarmingly under them.

It smelled like sex and flowers in the room.

Phantom honeyed sweetness filled Shane’s mouth. Each breath brought more.

He unclamped one hand from Ryan’s side and grabbed at his hair, pulling Ryan’s head to the side. Vines tore under his fingers, making Ryan cry out and shudder. Shane slipped his hand down the side of Ryan’s face, taking leaves and a blossom with him, and pushed his fingers past sharp teeth.

The pain of skin tearing was not unexpected and Shane muffled his own noises against the back of Ryan’s shoulder.

Ryan thrashed under him, not in an attempt to escape but chasing something that Shane didn’t have the wits to give. The sound of a swallow was loud in Shane’s ear, then Ryan shook apart. He came with a low, heavy groan that shivered the very air.

Shane could do nothing but follow him over the edge.

His own orgasm was wrenched from him so hard that his entire world became nothing more than pained pleasure and meaningless white noise. He floated in an endless moment of pure fulfillment.

What had been needed was done. There was something relaxing about that contentment.

For a wild second, he didn’t want to return to consciousness.

Everything felt so much simpler on the other side of rapture.

He might have blacked out for a bit, he wasn’t sure. When he was finally able to recognize that he was a cohesive body and he did exist, Shane blinked open his eyes. He was confused to be met by the sight of a mass of flowering vines on the surface of the table, growing around the various knick-knacks that were placed there.

It was shocking that the two of them hadn’t knocked anything over.

On their table.

In their set.

At their workplace.

“Oh no,” Shane whispered.

“Thank God, I thought you had passed out,” Ryan muttered from under him. “Get off, I like breathing.”

Shane guiltily pushed himself off Ryan’s back, wincing when pulling away made Ryan squirm in a way that looked pained. He shuffled backward, unsure what to do or say and completely unable to stop looking at the floor when Ryan stood up and pulled his pants back on with a quiet disgusted noise.

There was an urge to fall into a gibbering mess, but he felt too wrung out and floaty to give in. The lingering pleasure tingling through his extremities made it incredibly difficult to care to the point of real panic.

Not that he wasn’t trying to figure out a way to disappear. Maybe if he kept quiet enough, Ryan would forget he was there.

“Dude, put your dick away.”

And here he had thought he couldn’t have been any more embarrassed.

Taking the condom off was awkward, but not nearly as awkward as holding it in one hand that was bleeding sluggishly from a bite mark while trying to tuck himself back into his pants with the other.

“Just throw it in the trash can,” Ryan muttered, his feet shifting in Shane’s vision in a decidedly cautious way. “You act like you’ve never had sex in a weird place before.”

Shane thought silence was the proper response to that and merely did as Ryan said, making sure to place a few pieces of paper over the top of it. Unfortunately, Ryan knew him a little too well.

“Wait, seriously? You’ve never... “

“Does a girlfriend’s parent’s bed count?” Shane asked after a second, risking a quick glance up to gauge Ryan’s reaction. Ryan snorted and Shane relaxed the smallest amount.

“What, no late night rendezvous in a cornfield?”

“I have done some stupid shit in cornfields but I’m not that stereotypical.”

That got a real laugh and finally Shane felt confident enough to blurt out the thought that had taken root as soon as he had become aware of what had happened. “I’m sorry.”

Maybe Ryan could hear how wretched he felt, because he didn’t make any kind of stupid joke or comment. He just stepped into Shane’s space and batted his hands away from his pants button to do it up himself. “For what? The best sex I’ve ever had in my life?”

Shane paused. Opened his mouth. Paused again. Thought that over. “Really?”

Ryan hesitated, then ducked his head down so that Shane was forced to meet his eyes. The green was still in his irises, but the dancing sparks were slow and languid. “Yes, really. I’m fine, big guy.” He thought over what he said, then grinned. “Heh. Big guy.”

“Not to toot my own horn, but this is not a beginner level dick.” Shane offered the joke tentatively, but since Ryan was already laughing at his own pun, he thought it would land well. .

Ryan smacked him on the arm and rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

Feeling bolder and less like dirt, Shane asked, “Was it some kind of fae magic helping you along? Sex magic? Is that a thing?”

“Oh my God, shut the fuck up.”

“I bet it’s a thing.”

“I will sew your mouth shut.”

Shane smiled, pleased by the exasperated response. “I’m just saying, it was either magic or someone has some experience with good ol’ butt stuff.”

Ryan raised one eyebrow, trying to look unaffected, but he broke quickly. He looked away and mumbled, “I thought something like this might happen.”

“Me asking?”

Now Ryan was looking up at the ceiling like it was fascinating. He made a gesture to indicate the two of them. “This whole thing. Isn’t uncommon. I,uh... Researched. Prepared.”

Shane swallowed. “Ah. That. That is quite an interesting thought. I approve of this research.”

“It’s been an educational week.”

Reasonably certain that Ryan wasn’t secretly angry at him or physically too hurt, Shane leaned forward and rested his arms on Ryan’s shoulders in a loose hug. It was nice to be able to touch him without that glamour pushing him into something more.

“You’re not the first.”

“You are nearly thirty, I didn’t really think-”

Ryan gently pinched his side in warning. “No, you ass. You’re not the first person to eat something I gave them.”

Shane carefully tilted his head so that he could watch Ryan’s face. “Yeah?”

“It’s more common than you’d think. People that don’t know or forget.” Ryan threw him a quick grin. “Steven Lim.”

“Shit, seriously?”

“Bastard stole my beer once. I made him admit I was better than him on the courts.”

Shane shook his head in amusement. “You’re such a bro sometimes that it hurts me.”

Ryan smiled that big smile of his and stretched up to kiss him on the cheek. “I didn’t do all of this just because you were the first one to take something from me. If I wasn’t into you, if I didn’t think this could go somewhere, if we didn’t work so well together, I would have just made you admit ghosts are real or something.”

A knot of anxiety that Shane had been afraid to look at too closely loosened in the back of his mind. He grinned, the expression too giddy. “It’ll take more than some pretty eyes to make me lie about ghosts, Bergara.”

Ryan smiled so hard his nose scrunched. It was unfairly adorable. “You think my eyes are pretty.”

“Like fireflies in the forest.”

“You- You _dick_ ,” Ryan complained, his smile somehow bigger.

“Liked that, didn’t you?”

“Oh shut up.”

 

\--------------

 

It had been decided that walking back to their computers at the same time would be too suspicious, so Shane made the trek back alone. Though he privately suspected that the noises they had made and the lingering floral smell of Ryan’s greenery was far more suspicious than them walking together. He hoped like hell that no one had actually heard anything.

He also hoped he would be able to film on their set without popping a boner, but he expected that was a slim hope at best.

From over the tops of everyone’s computer, Shane could spot something sitting next to his keyboard. As he got closer, he saw that it was a simple bouquet of white flowers in a thin ceramic vase. They looked a little like the flowers that bloomed in Ryan’s hair.

He paused next to Ned, who was the only person nearby that wasn’t wearing headphones. “Hey, Ned. When did that get here?”

Ned looked up at him, confused. “When did what- Oh, wow, those are nice. Didn’t even notice. Is it your birthday?”

Shane shook his head and ambled closer, absently muttering a response to Ned that he forgot as soon as it was out of his mouth.

Ryan’s red baseball cap was next to the vase. The one that had been left back in the Mound.

He didn’t want to read the card that hung around the neck of the vase. He did it anyway.

_Alex,_

_Felicitations on the consummation of your nuptials._

Shane was still staring at the card when Ryan walked up to him, his suit jacket back on and the tie around his neck.

“Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to grab some food after-”

“Ryan,” Shane interrupted, his voice placid. “We got flowers.”

Ryan paused. “Okay? Why, did we win something?”

“Your hat was with it.”

“That-” Ryan made a horrified face. “Oh shit.”

“Why,” Shane continued in the same calm manner, “does this say something about my _nuptials_? As in my _wedding_.”

Ryan froze for a second, then held up both hands. “I can explain?”

Shane took a step towards him.

“You know what, they really need me back at that shoot right now and I should probably go do that and I can’t do that if I’m dead!” Ryan shouted the words, dodged Shane’s hand, and damn near sprinted away.

“Ryan Bergara!” Shane yelled after him, completely ignoring the stares that were being directed towards them. “You get your leafy fae ass back here!”

“Nope, gotta go!”

“You’re taking my name, you piece of shit!”

“Not if you take mine first!”

“We’ll see about that,” Shane muttered to himself, fighting back a grin as he reread the card.

Maybe they could both win that particular argument.

Shane Madej-Bergara did have a certain ring to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ended up with far more backstory than was intended. Oops? 
> 
> Thank you all for the lovely comments and a _huge_ thank you to;
> 
>  
> 
> [void-bee](https://void-bee.tumblr.com/) for this wonderful art!  
> [Compulsion/Fae are just bigger cats ](https://void-bee.tumblr.com/post/184911626036/void-bee-compulsion-a-doodle-of-the-first)
> 
>  
> 
> And [soft-cryptids!](https://soft-cryptids.tumblr.com/) for  
> [ Pointy teeth! ](https://mephsation.tumblr.com/post/185706508821/do-i-have-a-thing-for-pointy-teeth-yes-yes-i)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Come bother me on the tumblrs! [Mephsation.](https://mephsation.tumblr.com/) <3


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